


do not give what is holy to the hounds

by dentigerous



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Brio - Freeform, F/M, POV Rio (Good Girls), Rio (Good Girls) Being an Asshole, Rio is done playing games, but he's not done with beth, but he's very good at this, gangfriend, rio is not dealing with any of this very well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentigerous/pseuds/dentigerous
Summary: Rio wasn't about to let Elizabeth walk away. Bringing her back into the game required him to be delicate. Touch-and-go. Give-and-take. But Rio's always been bad about letting go and Elizabeth is dying to get more than a little danger back into her life. As they build their trust again, becoming real partners in the hustle, they have to navigate new family obstacles, the FBI's heat, and the turning tides of the ladies' Book Club.---A Rio POV fic canon compliant, keeping up with season 2, mostly.





	1. Chapter 1

He kept the pearls. 

They were a promise - a covenant, his ma would have said - some kind of exchange or insurance or a reminder, at least. It was sentimental to keep them, and Rio was not a sentimental man. He didn’t care much for personal taste, he stuck to a black wardrobe that was almost pastoral. His tattoos were important in the strange way permanent things are meant to be important but are usually only fleetingly so. They weren’t sentimental anymore. 

So the pearls were strange. An oddity. 

He considered having them broken apart, torn from the string one by one and throwing them in the gutter. He thought about selling them, not that he needed the money, but just...to prove a point. He had a passing thought, as he was in bed, almost asleep, of pawning them. Again, not for the money, but just to give the little receipt back to Elizabeth when it felt like he needed to put her off guard. 

That was harder to do now. She was starting to rebuild herself stronger and stronger, and it was fucking annoying that she was pouring concrete over her new foundation. He recognized that. Sometimes you have to be broken before you can start over. 

It also meant that she wasn’t a pushover anymore. Didn’t flinch when he spoke harsh, didn’t back down. She hadn’t been for a while, but…

It stung. 

Sentiment, again. 

Rio shifted in the car, the pearls wrapped around his right wrist like a bracelet of prayer beads. He took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face. His fingers dragged down, and he looked out of the car at the house. 

The house. Neat and perfect, with a lawn that still got mowed twice a month by the car man, with the cars that Rio nearly paid for, the house that Rio’s line of work let them stay in. He knew it was shitty but wasn’t he owed more than “it’s done”? Dangerous. Stupid. 

He was out of the car and crossing the street before he thought better of it. Disguising a limp as a swagger. He didn’t knock, walked in like he owned the place, as if he owned it, as if he was owed entry. The lights were mostly off. He knew that her kids were with a grandparent - Car-man’s mom, down on Harrington. He knew. 

Rio walked in. The sounds of baking didn’t stop. 

He always had a soft step and stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed, watching her. 

Elizabeth. 

Fuck her, man. 

She turned, a grapefruit in her hand, and started as she saw him. Rio smirked. 

“Why are you here?”

Rio shrugged, eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s face as she began stripping the rind off the fruit in long strips with a vegetable peeler. 

“There have been some developments since our last conversation.”

“I don’t care,” Elizabeth said, voice low, eyes down. “I’m out.”

“Yeah, but your girls aren’t.”

That made her stop. Rio still hadn’t moved, was still watching her. He saw her shoulders tense, he saw her hands still for a few seconds. Hooked. It was easy when there was sentiment involved, it was easy when you were in it, when you cared, when you had a heart. Rio had tried hard to excise his. Hadn’t worked. 

He stepped forward, pulled out a stool, sat at the island. As Elizabeth resumed peeling the grapefruit - for candying, he realized, seeing the bubbling water and sugar laid out in the pan - he folded his hands on the marble, the pearls making a soft click against the stone. 

Rio waited. He let it ride. He suspected she knew, but he wanted to tell her anyway, wanted to see her reaction as he rubbed it in her face that her life was continuing without him.

“They can do whatever they want.”

“No, they can’t,” Rio said, smirk gone now. Elizabeth glanced up at him. 

“You,” Rio continued, shifting a little. “You were the reason I took your little posse on. You were the one with the brains, and the ideas, and the titchy attitude.”

“You hate my attitude,” Elizabeth muttered.

“Yeah, about as much as you hate me, huh.” 

Elizabeth flinched. Rio sat back. He liked that he could still throw the irony of all of it in her face and she still reacted like she was ashamed of it. He wondered if she knew how easy she was to read. Rio rubbed his mouth, looking around the kitchen again. 

“I ain’t taking them on. They’re a liability. They ain’t got the nerves for this sort of thing. They’re not committed like you. Ain’t got the steel. They already screwed up a crossing.”

Elizabeth glared at him. “You know they’re going to blame me if you cut them out.”

“Not if they ain’t doing their job.” Rio shrugged. “Either way, you’re out. Said so yourself.”

“That’s right. I’m not coming back.”

“Have you heard me ask you to come back?” Rio asked, eyebrows up. Elizabeth swallowed and looked down again. This was part of it, wasn’t it. Rio knew what he was doing, Elizabeth was just figuring it out. 

“Even if I do take ‘em back,” Rio continued, eyes back on Elizabeth’s hands, “they already owe. They won’t be doing easy delivery, pushing pills in Asprin Martins, since your lot’s off the table. No money washing neither. They ain’t got it.”

“Got what?”

“You, Elizabeth.”

That made her look up. She noticed the pearls around his wrist then and he saw her embarrassment in her shoulders, in the way she turned back to the grapefruit too fast. Her hand slipped and she nicked her thumb, drawing blood along the edge of it. 

Rio stood, walking around the island slowly. Elizabeth had stuck her thumb in her mouth, pressing her lips along the side. He took her hand, pulling it close to his chest.

“What are you doing?” She hissed. 

Rio shrugged but didn’t respond. Elizabeth didn’t pull away and he had banked on that, her stubbornness, her utter inability to back down. He looked down at her hand, holding her palm, drawing her hand up to his mouth. 

Slowly, orchestrating his every move, giving her every chance to get away from him, Rio pressed her thumb against his lips, then opened them. He drew her thumb in slowly, eyes lowered. There was a noise from Elizabeth, and Rio suspected it was her forgetting to breathe for a few seconds. He pulled back, then slipped her index finger into his mouth, sucking gently. 

“Rio.”

Rio hummed, leaning back. He smirked at Elizabeth, putting her hand on his chest. 

“All better.”

“I’m not doing this.”

“No?”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed, and she turned away from him, snatching her hand back, her shoulder brushing against his chest. Rio set his jaw, ignoring the flare of anger. 

“Why are you even telling me this?” 

“Cause if they keep pushing I’m going to put ‘em on the line. A real one.”

“Just shut them out!” Elizabeth protested, looking up at him, glaring. 

“Nah, they know too much. Better to keep ‘em close,” Rio said. “I remember getting arrested last time I denied a charity case.”

Elizabeth tensed. The grapefruit was peeled, the curly, iridescent pink rinds all in a bowl. She snatched it and turned to the stovetop. 

“So you’re telling me either I join up again, or my sister and best friend will be in danger?”

“Something like that,” Rio agreed, watching her back. She held both hands on the small counter next to the stove. She turned (too fast) and threw a wooden spoon at Rio. He turned just enough that it hit his shoulder instead of his head.

Elizabeth seemed shocked, and to her credit, didn’t appear surprised when Rio stepped forward, grabbing her wrists. She stepped back as he stepped into her space, pressing her into a corner of the kitchen counter. He held her hands down, fast at her sides, his face twisted, sneering. 

“You got nerve.”

“You’re threatening my family!”

“I’m telling you facts,” Rio growled, getting close to her. He was nearly nose to nose, the familiar heat jumping between them. It was like some telenovela - her breath literally stopped in her throat, her eyes widened. He could see it happening in the span of only a few seconds, and his mama would be swooning if she were watching this story with any other characters. 

“I’m telling you,” he continued, “that if you want your girls safe, you keep them away from me.”

“You don’t seem eager to get away from me.”

Rio swallowed. Shit. He was fucking stupid. He shook his head. “No.”

Elizabeth didn’t respond. She was waiting for him. Rio knew that this was a power play, she was testing him, she wanted to see how far she could push, what buttons she could find. It was infuriating. He squeezed her wrists tight enough to hurt. 

She winced and Rio, full of sentiment, pushy and angry and hot under the collar, let go. He set his jaw again, taking a few steps back. 

They measured each other. 

“I’m out.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that,” Rio said, stepping back again, backing up until he was leaning against the pantry. Non-threatening, as much as a panther in the dark can be. He held his hands behind his back. He knew that it wasn’t working, that every inch of him was danger and quickening and violence. But Elizabeth bought it for a minute, going back to pick up the spoon before turning to her stove.

“I’ll talk to Ruby and Annie.”

“Smart.”

“You can leave.”

Rio made a noise. Elizabeth glanced over at him. “No.”

“Get out, Rio.”

“Nah. I got one more warning for you.”

“If you’re threatening Dean, I really couldn’t care less.” Elizabeth began dipping the peels in the simmering water. “He basically lives at his mother’s.”

“Annie’s fucking a grassman.”

Elizabeth frowned, turning to Rio. Her eyes flared, but Rio could tell that she didn’t know what he had said. Good. Keep her talking. 

“What?” She asked, hand on her hip.

“A fed. A bird. A narc.”

“Noah? Noah is an undercover officer?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Rio shrugged. 

“I got intel that says he’s working with Turner. Cozy with the FBI.” 

The silence stretched between them. Rio smirked, pulled the pearl necklace off his wrist, placing it on the counter. 

“But you’re out. And there ain’t no way to keep your sister sweet on you and keep out. There ain’t no way to tell your sis she’s got a pig wrapped in her blankets without pissing her off. And you know that if you tell her she ain’t got the head on her you’ve got, she’s not going to be able to play it off-”

“You don’t know that!” Elizabeth snapped, annoyed. Angry, Rio noticed. Angry and scared. He didn’t want to think that it didn’t turn him on a little, but there was something about Elizabeth when she was seconds away from doing something very, very stupid or very, very interesting. 

“You gonna take that bet?”

Elizabeth didn’t move for a few seconds. She turned back to the stove, but didn’t touch the sugar. Rio wanted to kiss her neck. He clenched his hands behind his back instead. 

“I could take care of it,” Rio said, taking another step back, the island in between them. “If you came back.”

“I’m not getting into this with you.”

“No?”

Rio was smirking a little. Elizabeth turned back towards him, and he could see it again, the anger, the fire, the sheer fucking determination of a woman who was never second best at anything, who had to be perfect, who needed everyone to know how good she was. 

He watched as she worked through her options. He watched as her eyes flashed. He bit on his bottom lip, letting his eyes drag down her body. 

“I can pay you to take care of it.” She said. “No strings attached. I’ll get the money and I’ll pay you, you can...do what you have to do and I’ll just-”

“I ain’t your personal bodyguard.” Rio’s eyes snapped back up. Why was he so angry? Furious even. He sneered. “All or nothing.”

Elizabeth’s face wasn’t as blank as she might have liked. She looked surprised for a few seconds. 

“Isn’t this what you do? Take money for deals?” Her voice betrayed how confused she was. Stupid girl. Stupid fucking child. Rio rolled his eyes. 

“I ain’t going to let you pay me to kill a fed like you ain’t know what I do.” Rio’s voice was hard. “I don’t kill fucking federal agents.” 

“I’m offering to pay you-”

“Nah.” Rio cut her off, turning away. The pearls were still on the island. “You’re out. You can’t ask me to clean up this shit for you.”

“Rio! You can’t keep this from her!” He heard her footsteps behind him. 

Suddenly, faster than she expected, he turned, stepped towards her, made her stagger, off-balance.

“What? What! You’re out! Done.”

“Please-”

“That ain’t it, sweetheart.” Rio stepped forward, in her space, angry again. She stepped backward twice and then stood her ground, and he got close, far too close, nearly nose to nose. 

“Annie’s just-”

“Annie’s in. She made a deal. She’s not waiting for you to give her permission no more. I’m warning you and that’s it. I ain’t fucking with the feds, and you…”

Rio turned his head to the side. Elizabeth clenched her fists. He knew what he was doing. He knew that Elizabeth would tell Annie, that she’d have to convince her, that she’d have to deal with this. He knew that if it was Elizabeth in the shit, he’d take care of it. She knew it too. 

“You’re out.”

The silence that stretched between them was perilous, charged with anger, threats, violence, and the memory of some incredible sex. Elizabeth took a deep breath and pressed her hand to her eyes, digging her palms into them. 

“Rio, please.”

“Nah.” Rio’s voice was softer, kinder if it wasn’t for the edge of steel underneath. 

“Rio!”

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Rio murmured. “I ain’t playing games with you. I ain’t straddling no line for you. You want out, you out. I didn’t ask for shit. I laid out your options. This was a courtesy call.”

“Just…” she floundered, and Rio reached up and pushed aside her hair. He kept his hand near her temple. It wasn’t good of him to like her when she was desperate. He wanted to save her. It was a dangerous habit, wanting to be something for someone. Wanting to be someone she could ask for help, wanting to give it to her. 

He leaned down and kissed her temple, sliding his hand to the back of her neck. She didn’t resist, leaning into him, sliding her hands down his chest. 

Rio took a deep breath. He knew, sadly, remarkably, that this wasn’t just a spark or a heat, it was something stupid and reckless. Elizabeth had her hands against his hips. She had her head against his chest, holding him close and fast and hostage in his own skin. Rio paused. He had a choice. He could manipulate this, change the game up a little, he could push her right now to take the hook. Or he could play the long game, lay the bait, leave. 

“You want my help,” he murmured, taking a step back, pushing her hands away. “You make a deal.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Dean’s threatened-”

“So take care of it.”

Rio wasn’t going to let that lie. Wasn’t going to allow that bullshit. For all his faults, he had been honest with Elizabeth, and Dean was a liar and a snake.

He took another step back. Elizabeth pushed at her eyes. Rio knew what he was asking. 

Rio didn’t bother reminding her that she had his number. He turned and left her there, in the hall, mind reeling. This was it. He was done with sentiment, he had left it on the counter. He wasn’t done with Elizabeth, not yet. But for now, she needed space and he needed to focus. 

He left, driving the speed limit, eyes ahead. 

Fuck sentiment. He was going to get Elizabeth, fuck everything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got so much more attention than i was expecting! thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, it's so nice to read over them and they're totally inspiring. hopefully, i can keep rio's voice clear, since that's what you guys are liking and it's what i'm Really Enjoying. also, a note...i have...uh...plans. this fic will go somewhere i promise. there will be a plot soon. in like chapter 4...

The raid had been good for Rio. It put him back in a position of power. It took away Elizabeth’s choices. Now there were only a few options left. Rio or the Feds.

He hoped the answer was obvious.

This would lead to questions. He had revealed that he knew things, revealed that he knew possibly too much. At least now Elizabeth would believe him about Annie, and likely anything else he told her about the heat licking her heels. He’d leave some things for later.

This was an opportunity. Elizabeth had gone back to her stay-at-home wife life, had gone to PTA meetings, was spending her time baking and cooking and cleaning and acting as if it would be better this time as long as she tried hard enough. She had tried, and if she didn’t think that Rio had head-through the endless ways he had-that she had gone to addicts anonymous and then stopped, well. He was pretty sure he knew what she was confessing.

This was good for him. Real good. Unraveling delusion, frustration, anger. All the things that Elizabeth couldn’t stand in her life. All coupled with the fact that Rio had proven to be right and she, honestly...if he hadn’t warned her...

He knew that pills were still the game right now, but he found a new way to bring them over, the usual way, which was a higher risk for his boys, but less dramatic than getting these ladies involved. Bangers got picked up, put away, stuck in jail, and then, finally let out on parole. That was how this worked, how it worked for him. His boys were always a few blocks away from a pickup.

The problem, he had realized, is that the ladies thought that they had more to lose than anyone else. What they didn’t know is that this attachment to “more to lose” made them vulnerable. In reality, they just weren’t willing to lose anything. They couldn’t imagine a life of less. A life of hardship or struggle or tough choices. It didn’t exist for them in their pretty, manicured little world of picket fences and tae-kwon-do lessons.

It wasn’t hard to see. They only thought they were desperate. The truth was that they were still too privileged to know what real, true, down-and-out, no assets, nothing was. They couldn't imagine.

When she called asking to be heard again, he had been busy. Not too busy. Just...busy enough to put her off for a few days.

So there was the offer. Back to ladies’ book club. He relished telling them that they were in for a long, long time. As long as it took. No way to just walk off the court. None of this in and out bullshit. Ain’t no drive through.

Then there was a text, waiting there, on his phone, sent in the middle of the night.

**[E] I need a drink.**

Rio was working at one of the factories, this one by a river, and it would take him nearly an hour to make it to Elizabeth’s place. He texted her an address and a time.

He had sent enough of these sorts of texts to know what Elizabeth wanted. But it was Elizabeth, who knew what she was actually planning. It grated a little to know that he was more or less at her beck and call, but at this point, it was worth it to keep her happy, keep her thinking that she had some control over the situation.

Easier said than done.

By the time Rio showed up at the seedy bar, he was about twenty minutes past time. He walked in, pulling off his beanie, brushing his hair down as he looked around for Elizabeth. She was sitting at the corner of the bar, with some guy leaning into her space, beer in hand.

Rio smirked. He didn’t mind. He got another chance to indulge his sentimental side. A small moment to play at being a good guy.

“Hey, lady,” Rio said as he got close, clocked the conversation happening, saw how tense Elizabeth’s shoulders were, how narrow her eyes went as she stared daggers at this dude next to her. “Having a good night?”

He slid into the seat across the corner from her, in the man’s space, in her space, spreading out to look up at him.

He wasn’t bad looking, but he was short, balding, and wearing something with a stain on it.

“Yeah, uh. You need something?” The man asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Just here to chat with my girl.”

Glasses frowned, glanced at Elizabeth, who recovered quickly from not only being called a girl but _his_ girl.

“That’s right,” Elizabeth said pointedly. She looked up at Glasses. “Thanks for the drink.”

The man looked at Rio, eyebrows up. Rio raised his eyebrows in return, still smirking. He could see something happening in this man’s head, some quick calculations or justifications. A reason, there was always a reason someone like him and someone like her were talking. People rarely assumed anything innocent. Rio felt his anger burning in the back of his head.

Glasses turned toward Elizabeth, showing his back to Rio. Rio’s jaw flexed, his eyes narrowed. Elizabeth’s eyes never left Rio’s and that was the probably only thing that stopped him from making a fucking scene with this man’s head.

“You can go,” Elizabeth said, softer, perhaps, than Rio felt she needed to be.

Glasses, seeing that Elizabeth really was ignoring him, pushed off from the bar and walked away.

Rio’s eyes followed him, dark and dangerous and imagining the way the guy would look with his boot in his stomach.

“Rio.” Her voice pulled his eyes back to her. She wasn’t smiling. “Jealousy’s not a good look on you,” she warned.

Rio smirked, rolled his eyes, and then gestured for the bartender. Just like Elizabeth to make it about herself, right? He didn’t bother correcting her.

“Whiskey, neat.” He ignored her, but she pressed on.

“If you had been here when you said you’d be here-”

“I told you when to be here,” Rio countered, not looking over at her. “I never said when I would be here.”

Elizabeth’s glare could have set him on fire. He glanced at her and chuckled, sliding a twenty across the bar and leaning back with the drink. He turned, faced her, still smiling. He tried to read her then. Angry, annoyed, exhausted.

“What’s up?”

“I need to know we’re good.”

Rio took another sip of his drink, considering his response. “This again?”

“I need to hear it.”

He looked over at her and shrugged. “We good.”

She stayed quiet, eyes sharp. He felt something in his throat, felt something strong and he knew that this was their heat again. He shifted forward, looking at her, leaning into her space. She stayed still, as still as possible, and he wanted to see something there, something different. Her mask had gotten harder and harder to crack, and he missed seeing the sharp parts of her.

“What?” He asked, eyebrows up. “Not enough?”

“It’s really just…” She trailed off. “Just like that. We’re good.” Her mask slipped. There was some confusion, concern, something else like consideration.

“We’re partners,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “You said you wanted out, and now you know you really meant it was time to find a new hustle. You gotta stop panicking. You got no impulse control when it comes to the heat. You gotta learn to talk to me when you find yourself backed into a corner.”

“I don’t need you to save me,” Elizabeth hissed, leaning into him, mask breaking. Rio grinned.

“We’re saving each other, sweetheart. We both got too much to lose.”

He didn’t. He only sort of did. He didn’t have much to lose to the feds, but he knew that she associated even the implication of losing with something life-shattering and world-changing. That was fine. Let her think that he needed her as much as she needed him. Rio didn’t get where he was without learning to temper his pride for the sake of others.

Elizabeth heard him. She really did. Her anger slid away and she nodded, looking down at her glass. Rio sipped his own drink, staring at her.

“So,” he paused, let it hang, let her wait for a few more seconds. Then, soft and low, so only she could hear. “What are we really doing here Elizabeth?”

He knew what it sounded like, he knew what he wanted it to sound like. Knew the echo he placed in front of her. Almost immediately, he saw the change in her, the way she seemed a little softer, a little less guarded. God, it took nothing. It was an ounce of sincerity and the woman never seemed to remember that you had ever been unkind. This was how car-man had kept her under his thumb.

Rio, annoyed at the thought of Deadman-Dean, gestured over his shoulder, pressing some kind of smirk on his face. “You want me to call Glasses back over?”

“I want to discuss terms.”

Rio’s eyebrows went up. “Here?”

Elizabeth looked up at him and nodded.

Rio made a noise, shrugging. “Not much to talk about.”

“What does that mean?” Elizabeth asked, leaning in, frowning now.

Rio hummed, then shrugged again. He leaned against the bar, elbow on the teak, tucking his hand into his palm. “I mean, you ain’t got much room for negotiating, do you? No car lot, a federal raid on your record, an agent with a personal vendetta against you. Don’t make you a real appealing hire.”

She pressed her mouth. He saw that spark, that determination. She didn’t want to back down.

The bar seemed to narrow down to just them. Just their corner of this semi-crowded bar. Rio wasn’t looking around, wasn’t focusing on anything else except Elizabeth, his entire world narrowed down to just her for a few moments. He knew that she felt it the heat of his attention, the fire of it.

“I want fifty.”

Rio laughed. Genuinely laughed, pulling back from the table, head back a little. He shook his head, turning towards her, taking in the look of embarrassment she was trying to hide. Setting his drink down, he leaned in, smirking.

“You’ll get thirty, and thank me for it,” he murmured, soft and unkind.

“Fourty.”

“Nah-uh,” Rio tutted, shaking his head. “Ain’t no negotiating. Thirty.”

Elizabeth set her jaw. “I still have my connections-”

“Book club? Connections? You could get any of those ladies from a PTA meeting. Hell, I could do it if I ponied up for a private school for Marcus. You think you’re the only rich white lady in town who wants a shot at fucking a criminal?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and Rio held her gaze. God, she had a fucking spark in her eyes that could burn the city down. He just hoped he got to see it on fire.

“Fine,” she said tersely, finishing her drink, looking for the barkeep. Rio knocked his knee against hers, bringing her eyes back to his.

“I still need a thank you, Elizabeth.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Hey,” Rio shifted, taking the amusement out of his voice entirely. “Last week you nearly had a heart attack telling me you were out. I saved your ass from the feds two days ago. Today, I am offering to take you back after all the shit you pulled. We can work towards being partners again, but until I trust you, I call the shots.”

Elizabeth watched him, calculating. Rio had a hard time reading her, but he was confident that she was willing to swallow some of her own pride for this.

The bar moved around them. Someone dropped a beer and there was a loud rush of noise.

Elizabeth set her jaw, and Rio leaned into her, face neutral.

She finally took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, sitting back and finishing his drink. His knee was still pressed against hers, and he couldn’t help it. He knew he was teasing her, but she was...so fucking much. He wanted to drag her close, he wanted to push her away, he wanted to see if she had brought the van and offer to keep her warm in the back seat.

Instead, he said nothing, getting a second drink, watching her, waiting.

She finished her own drink. Rio watched her mouth. He chewed on his bottom lip as he did, and when he glanced up at her, he knew that she had seen him, knew what he wanted, or could at least guess. He dared her to say it.

“I should go.”

“Yeah?” Rio’s voice was even, but his eyes became flinty and hard. That was it, huh?

“I...took a cab here.” Her eyes didn’t leave his.

Rio raised his eyebrows. He shifted, setting his elbows on the bar. He leaned in, the dark bar hiding a lot of his expression, but the light seemed to make her skin shine like alabaster. He tilted his head, in her space, in her head, invading, invasive. Too much, too little, not enough.“Where you going, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth’s jaw set. “With you.”

Rio felt like he had been branded. Felt like someone had reached in and squeezed his throat. Felt like someone had hit him with a fucking bat. He nodded, finished his drink in a swift movement, and then stood up. He took her arm, pulled her up. He didn’t speak as he led her outside, keeping close to her, hand around her elbow.

He led her to his car and opened the door for her, waiting.

She hesitated, looking at him reproachfully.

“Waiting for a monogrammed invite?”

“I’m just not used to you being so agreeable.”

Rio shrugged, leaning against the car door. “I’m pretty sure I know what I’m agreeing to.”

They stared at each other. Rio sucked in his bottom lip as he looked over her, dragging his eyes down her chest, her hips, her legs, then back to her face. He raised his eyebrows, asking her to contradict him.

She slid into the seat, and he shut her door, still smirking.

The drive to his place (more accurately, _one_ of his places) was uneventful. The most interesting thing that happened was how quiet Elizabeth was as he drove. This didn’t surprise Rio much. If he had to guess, he’d have said that they were both naturally quiet people surrounded by expectations to be less so. It was just a byproduct of where they had ended up.

As he drove, she shifted slightly, turning to look at him. He didn’t mind; he looked her over all the time. He liked it when she watched him.

He smirked a little and turned to face her at one of the stop lights, eyebrows up.

Then, Elizabeth smiled.

It was something small and soft and demure and Rio knew that there was an organ or something important flipping inside him that made that smile so fucking dangerous. For him, for her, for this whole damn thing. He knew that it was deceptive, meant to put him off-balance. Damn, it fucking worked. He hated her for it.

He smiled back, turning forward again as the light turned green.

He wanted to touch her. God, what was he turning into? The literal thought that crossed his mind was _‘Will she let me hold her hand?’_

Rio took a deep breath, ignoring his immediate gut reaction to do the exact opposite of holding her hand, had to resist the desire to prove that he wasn’t fucking soft. He wanted to turn the car around and drop her off at her house, with nothing but four kids and a cold bed. He wanted to tell her to suck him off at the next red light, he wanted to bruise her neck.

Instead, Rio focused on the road, the smell of her expensive perfume, on anything but the reaction he had after she had softened something inside him. He did nothing instead, keeping his hands firmly on the wheel, expression neutral.

They pulled into the bottom garage of a small apartment building and Rio got out first, walking around to open her door again.

“This is a nice place.”

Rio chuckled. “You should see my joint in Grosse Pointe.”

“Seriously?”

Rio raised his eyebrows, touching the small of her back for just a second, leading her through the garage to the elevator. “Waterfront view.”

“Jesus,” Elizabeth muttered, leaning into him as they got into the elevator. “Now you’re just showing off.”

Rio hummed, putting an arm around her before she could step away, keeping her close to his side. She didn’t move away, and he didn’t push it. Wasn’t this nice? Comfortable?

As they went to the penthouse on the sixth floor, Rio slid his arm back to put his hand at the back of her neck. Oh, there it was. She flushed, tensed, but didn’t move away. Rio smirked, leaned in to brush his mouth against her ear.

“I’ll show off tonight.”

Elizabeth turned and smacked his chest, surprising him, making him laugh.

“You’re a child.”

“That’s how you want to play it, mami?” He murmured, mouth still against her ear. “I ain’t going to argue.”

“Oh, my god.”

Rio laughed, delighted by how easy it was to rile her up. He stepped into the small hallway and walked to the single door, opening it after a few seconds of sorting through his keys. Glancing at Elizabeth, he was pleased to see that she wasn’t being coy, going right up to the furnishings in the hall and looking at them critically.

He opened the door to the apartment and walked in, holding it open for her.

She walked in, glancing around. The apartment was neat, a little bland, but had the usual things. A nice TV, a big fridge, large windows. Rio stuck his hands in his pockets, following her.

“Do you live here?”

Rio shrugged and he could see the disappointment on her face. So she wanted to see where he lived, huh? How he decorated his place, what his son’s room looked like. She wanted to _know_ him. He kept his eyes locked on hers, understanding and intentional. She swallowed and turned away.

“You have places like this all over?” She asked, walking through the living area, finding the large bedroom on the far end of the apartment.

Elizabeth glanced back at him as she stood in front of the bedroom. He shrugged again.

“You going to say something?” Elizabeth nearly stomped her foot, eyes flaring. God, she was ridiculous. Demanding, all talk, disrespectful. No sense.

He wanted all of it.

Rio strode forward, face still, and Elizabeth didn’t move, tilted her head up to him.

He kissed her. Hands at her neck, on her shoulders, pulling her close. This time she was the one scrambling at his shirt, desperate to get it off him.

This was the passion of their first meeting coupled with the second’s expectation of tenderness. There was time here, and knowledge and Rio knew that she wanted it rough and hard and he was the man that was going to give it to her.

How was this still so easy? He kissed her hard, pushing her back.

Rio was still so into her, it drove him mad. He didn’t seek out desperate housewives to fuck, and yet here he was with an undeniably Middle-American soccer mom who knew he had killed people, whom he had threatened to personally kill on more than a few occasions, and she still just wanted him to fuck her up. There was something here, a respect, a deep fucking need, and he liked knowing that he wasn’t just indulging in some rough rider fantasy for this privileged white girl.

Well, he thought, grinning as Elizabeth bit his mouth, dragged her nails across his back, maybe he was. But he was going to fucking enjoy every second he could get.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is v much a smut-filled chapter. i'm catching up on ep 11 today! the next chapter will be a day in the life of rio, which i'm just really a fan of. enjoy this chapter!

They got each other’s shirts off quickly, and Elizabeth dug her hands into his waistband, pulling him to the bed. Rio laughed, loving her hands against his hips, the way she didn’t try to be coy or clever or cute. She sat on the bed and he slid down until he was kneeling in front of her, still smiling. 

Her face was flushed. Rio felt the pressure of his cock straining against his pants and shifted his knees against the floor, finding a better position. He undid her jeans, pulling them down her ass, leaning in to kiss her hip as she raised them up to help him. 

She laughed, bright, silly, her hand around his head. He looked up at her, smiling. 

“You ticklish?”

She winced, found out, and Rio slid his fingers under her panties, pulling them down. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, tossing her jeans and lace aside. “I ain’t here to tell jokes.”

The first shuddering gasp from her as he went down was beautiful. He nosed against her pussy, his mouth open, and he listened as she came undone. She was so appreciative, felt so small under his tongue. He shrugged slightly, pulling her legs up over his shoulders, and felt a thrill as her heels dug into his spine. 

This was easy. Rio knew to slide an arm over her leg and grip her hip tight, knew to slide a hand up her folds and then his fingers into her, slowly, so fucking slowly. 

She was making small noises with every movement, and Rio crooked his fingers, pressed his teeth against her clit gently, and she shuddered, and then came a few seconds later with Rio’s tongue inside her. 

He smiled against her, sliding his hands down her thighs, gentle and kind, reassuring. He sucked at her as she rode out the orgasm, encouraging her. He was right here, wasn’t he? He was right there. 

Standing, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, her scent and wetness still on his lips. 

She was staring at him, eyes wide, still in a bra, flushed red down to her chest. Rio grinned, took a step back, began to undo his pants, dropping his belt. Elizabeth didn’t bother to help, running her hands over her face, and Rio was thrilled. Look at what he had done to her. 

“The lights are still on,” she murmured. She arched her back, another small movement, another shock of pleasure. Rio chuckled, stepping out of his clothing, naked in front of her. 

“I want to see you.”

She stared at him, propped up on her elbows. Rio stepped forward, reaching down to pull her legs around his waist again. 

“You can stay right there,” he murmured, one hand under her ass, pulling her up to meet him. Elizabeth looked like she wanted to say something, but he pushed into her, slowly, and Rio knew that at this angle, with Elizabeth’s ass in the air, legs tight around his waist, pulling him close, it wouldn’t be long before he pulled another orgasm from her. 

Rio loved that reaction, Elizabeth’s eyes wide, her hands fisting in the covers, unable to grab onto him. He started slow, letting her adjust. When she moaned his name, turning her head to the side, her hair in her face, sticking to her forehead, Rio started driving into her faster. His hands were tight on her thighs, probably bruising. 

She moaned again, and he could tell, even fucking her, touching her, in her, that she was trying not to make noise. 

Anger, again, anger and something else, anger and something like need, and Rio pushed hard into her, leaning down, arching over her body. He kissed her, pulling her thighs up, stretching her out. 

Elizabeth’s hands, desperate for him, clutched at his head and neck. She kissed him back, and he drew even more noises from her. He knew she could taste herself, he knew that his cock was deep in her, hitting her in just the right spot every time. There wasn’t the danger of the bathroom, the slow exploration of her bedroom, this was just good sex. 

She dragged her nails down his shoulders; he pushed his hands against the backs of her knees. 

“Rio,” she gasped.

“I got you,” Rio murmured, voice cracking. 

He pushed her through the second orgasm of the night, and as she shuddered, arching her back, keening his name, he came as well, jerking into her, his hard hips pushing against her soft thighs. 

She groaned as he did, he was breathing hard against her neck. They stayed there for a minute, both with their mouths open, eyes half-closed. When he was soft inside her, he shifted over, lying next to her.

Elizabeth moved away from him as soon as he lay down. He had to resist reaching out for her, but he was feeling lazy. As she picked up her clothes, Rio made a noise, sitting up a little on his elbows to watch her. 

“Going somewhere?” He asked, almost angry.

Elizabeth didn't even look at him. He set his jaw, anger flaring up again. 

“You going to leave me a tip this time?” Rio snapped, lying back down again. He knew that he couldn't expect her to stay the night with him, he didn't even want to spend the night together, he had too much work to do, but they had been there barely thirty minutes and she was ready to run off.

“We're done here,” Elizabeth muttered, pulling on her jeans.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Rio sat up, looking over Elizabeth again. She was flushed, uncomfortable and… Rio paused as he watched her tried to read her movements. She was upset. There was something in her jaw, something about the way her fingers shook when she buttoned up her blouse that made him realize it. 

He stood up picking up his briefs and pulling them on quickly. Not because he cared about it, but because knew that pretending at modesty would make her more comfortable. 

As Elizabeth's hands shook, Rio stopped her, holding her wrists gently. She started breathing a little harder, her exhales hitching in her throat. He rubbed her wrists with his thumbs, leaning down to kiss her gently, slowly, pushing his anger down again. 

She didn't pull away. Rio was slow with her, teasing and inviting. He pulled away from the kiss, leaning in to nose at her jaw, tilting her head up so he could talk against her ear. 

“What's wrong, huh?” 

“I shouldn't be here,” she muttered, eyes closed. “I have...people relying on me, and I...I know that…”

Rio was grateful that she didn't say Dean's name. It was the smallest kindness she could offer. He sighed through his nose and ducked his head to kiss her neck. “Being with me ain't hurting them.”

Elizabeth laughed, short sand strangled. Rio pulled back, frowning a little, face serious. “You think I would let anything happen to your kids, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth searched his expression, eyes wide. Rio didn't move, his thumbs sliding to her palms, moving back and forth slowly. She shook her head. 

Rio smiled, just with the corner of his mouth. Confident and easy, relaxed. He leaned in to kiss her again, letting go of her hands to slide his fingers into her hair, around the back of her head and neck. 

Her hands were tentative against his chest, and then, as they rested on his hips, digging into the grooves there, she pulled him close to her.

As Rio smirked, she deepened the kiss, and Rio felt that need again. He laughed, pulling back, arms over her shoulders.

“You know,” he murmured, smirking, “I think I remember I got work to do.” 

Elizabeth's eyes widened, her hard mask sliding on instantly. Rio grinned, pleased that he had the power to change her mood in a second. It was ironic that he barely realized that she had the ability to do the same to him. It didn't matter too much.

“Fine,” Elizabeth said, not stepping away.

“But…” Rio was still smirking, head tilted. “I gotta go shower before I go.”

Elizabeth's mask was still on. Rio dropped the attitude, humming a little, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

“You could join me.” 

Elizabeth didn't say anything. Rio didn't let himself feel disappointed. He pushed her hair back, then took a step away from her, turning to the ensuite bathroom.

He hadn't been exaggerating; he was exhausted and worn down and covered in the grime of the day. There was the lingering smell of cigarettes and chemicals hanging on his shoulders. He glanced back at Elizabeth as he entered the bathroom, meeting her eyes as he shut the door, leaving it just barely open.

Rio had steeled himself for disappointment. She was not a woman who went back on her word or said anything without meaning it. So, when she didn't walk in on Rio as he was washing up, he convinced himself that he didn't care at all. She was scared and in over her head and she didn't owe him much, and certainly not sex. 

He knew he was lying to himself, but he ignored the hurt and made it anger instead. There were always going to be people disappointing him.

Toweling off, Rio looked at himself in the mirror. He still looked exhausted. He rubbed at his face, sighed, and pulled the towel off from around his shoulders, wrapping it around his waist.

He opened the door and was not prepared.

Elizabeth, on the bed, the covers thrown off, wrapped up in the burgundy sheet they hadn't even gotten down to earlier. 

Rio paused, immediately schooling his face into something that could pass as a neutral expression. His eyebrows were raised, and he leaned against the door, committing this to memory. 

Elizabeth had placed herself in the center of the bed, her clothes in a neat pile on a cabinet, hair mussed, kneeling up on the mattress. Rio let himself look over every part of her, watching her from across the room as she shifted, letting the sheet slip down past her breast. 

“You shouldn't play with me, you know,” he murmured, voice husky. 

“Why not.” She asked, not smiling, staring at him with open want. 

“I might want to come home to this.”

He let the implication hang in the air, stupid and big and a want that would never fucking happen. It was almost a lie. It was almost the truth. 

Elizabeth's cheeks were red, and she let the sheet fall, pooling around her hips. Rio shook his head, taking a few steps forward, letting his eyes fall over every curve and part of her.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?”

Elizabeth smirked as he dropped the towel, as he crawled onto the bed. God he loved the way her mouth turned up like that. Loved the feeling of her nails against his hair. He pulled the sheet off her, drawing his hands up her bare legs. 

She pulled away, nudging her nose against his cheek. “On your back.”

Rio’s grin spread across his face. He dug his hands into her thighs and she pushed at his chest. 

“Now.”

Rio slid to the headboard, shifting to watch Elizabeth as she crawled over him, smiling back at him. Fuck it, man. What was he supposed to do? 

She kissed him again, and he closed his eyes, leaning up to her, hands in her hair, trailing his hands down her breasts, holding her around her waist. Maybe he’d let himself pretend for a while. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written after episode 10, but possibly not compliant with the rest of the season. As soon as I watch more GG I'll start writing more of this fic. Thanks everyone!!

It was time for a meeting with the Agent. 

Turner was a pain in his ass, but at least he was reliable. Rio knew that he could count on Turner to pursue a lead, to make assumptions, to find the worst in any situation, and to act too fast for his own good. The agent had already blown his load on Rio, and whatever RICO charge he had thought he had was torn apart in court. Rio didn’t even have to show up in front of the judge, just handed off the cash to his lawyer and went out for drinks. Double jeopardy was one hell of a loophole.

So now Turner was spinning his wheels with nowhere to go. He wouldn’t be able to get shit on Rio, not without a shit ton of new evidence to bring to court, but there was still shit he could pick up on the ladies. 

There were always people at war. 

Rio was standing in the service kitchen as waiters and waitresses bustled around him. A few cooks glanced his way, but nobody spoke to him. That was fine. 

He held his phone with two fingers, leaning over to peek out of the porthole. Turner was sitting at a booth with his boyfriend. Rio checked the time, shifted, and then left the kitchen. Timing like this was a fucking gift. As Rio was a few booths away from Turner, his boyfriend stood up, leaned over to squeeze Turner’s shoulder, and then walked to the back. 

Rio sat down in the vacated seat, already smirking. Turner glanced up from his phone and set his jaw, glaring. 

“Good to see you too, agent.”

“I’d rather not do this on date night-”

“I know what night it is.” Rio interrupted, voice soft. He knew when Turner’s date nights were. He knew when he made a reservation, his favorite places, what he ordered, what he liked to drink. “Don’t worry, your scampi smells good.” 

“What do you want, Rio?” Turner asked, leaning in, frowning. 

Rio watched him for a few seconds. Rio had upset him. He was angry, annoyed, and a little off his game. There was something else here, something else going on. There was an undercurrent. Turner was on his back foot. 

“Just asking about how that raid went, papi.” Rio said, smirking. 

Turner’s eyes flashed. “You know how it went.”

“Yeah, I mean…” Rio gestured. “You’re here with your boy instead of making some grand report at the big fed office in Chicago. Instead, you’re still turning in dailies at McNamara, trying to bust a housewife on RICO charges.”

“You tipped her off,” Turner said, leaning in again, glaring. “I don’t know how you knew about it, but if you think that I won’t find the rat in my department-”

Rio made a noise, cutting him off. “Your man’s been in the bathroom for a while.”

Turner froze. 

Rio grinned. He shifted back. 

Around them, the restaurant bustled. A waiter came over to refill their waters and Turner shot her a glare that sent her scurrying back to the kitchen. Rio had him. Turner sat back, crossed his arms, and Rio was sure that if there wasn’t a roomful of witnesses Rio would be dead in the booth. 

“Ain’t like you to get sloppy,” Rio murmured. He shifted and slid out of the booth. “Don’t worry though,” he said, sending a text. “I got backups. Enjoy your night, papito.”

Rio stood, relishing the look on Turner’s face. Rio gave him one long look, the kind he dragged out for Elizabeth, half-smirking, giving the agent the up-down slowly. Turner’s jaw looked like it was set to pop out. 

“Yeah.” Rio took a few steps back, smug as fuck, smooth as silk catching on claws. He lifted his phone, pressed ‘send’ and tilted his head up. “I mean that.” 

He turned away, heading back into the kitchen. He glanced back, just out of sight, and saw that Turner’s boyfriend had taken the queue and sat down. Rio smirked, sending another text to a man in his phone named ‘Yigo,’ and walked through the kitchen, picking up a shrimp from the scampi plate going to B12. 

Turner was off his game now. He thought he was sleeping with the enemy. One of them, one of many in his department, in his life, surrounding him. Rio was closing in. 

He left the restaurant in the back of a car driven by one of his men. There were a few other stops, and for once he was grateful that he didn't have to stop by the burbs to speak with Elizabeth. He had too much to do. 

The rest of the stops took nearly all night. He got into his building around dawn. He walked in quietly, kissed his tia on the cheek and told her to go home, he’d drop by later. She didn’t hesitate to remind him that his niece’s quinces was in a month, and he still needed to deliver the RSVP. 

By the time he had pushed her out of his apartment, the sun was up. 

Rio pressed his back against the door. He took a deep breath, running his hands over his face slowly. He was exhausted. 

He took a minute and just stayed still. He let himself listen to his home. There was the sound of music from the neighbors. Something by the Copacabana, or Dean Martin, something old school and crooning. Across the street, a dog barked once and then ran outside. Birds outside the windows woke up. A few cars passed by.

Rio walked through his home slowly, seeing the mix of family and just enough wealth to feel comfortable, but not opulent. The trick with money was staying humble, living like any civilian. The cash was a temptation. You just had to use enough. He liked art. There were a few pieces in his cost more than the rest of the stuff in his neighbor’s apartments. 

He’d be the first to admit the Rivera was overkill. 

Rio toed off his boots as he walked through the apartment. The carpet masked his footsteps, and he turned down the hallway, checking his phone quickly. Nothing. Thank god, he needed a fucking break. 

He quietly pushed open the door to Marcus’ bedroom, checking in on his boy.

Marcus was curled up in his bed, safe as a fucking lamb, holding onto a stuffed tiger that his mama had bought for him years ago. It was matted, and the eyes had been scratched, and Rio knew the shit that kids pulled when you offered to maybe, if they wanted, get them a new one. 

Wasn’t really a logical conversation. 

Rio walked into his son’s room, smiling. He loved his boy, loved him more than anything, more than the world, more than anyone else could possibly love anyone else. He sat down on the bed, reaching over and pushing back Marcus’ hair.

The young boy stirred under Rio’s hand. He sighed and leaned over, kissing the top of his head. Marcus had a few hours before he’d wake up for school, so Rio might be able to sleep for a few minutes. He closed the door as he left, going into his bedroom and collapsing on the bed, still in his street clothes. 

He groaned, pulling off his pants and tossing them in a corner. He hated this. Hated coming home for minutes at a time. Rio was exhausted, had two phones charging and a third in his pocket. He had people asking for him, depending on him, and it was fucking exhausting. 

That was the price, right? Heavy heads and all that. Fucking kings and their crowns. 

He pulled off his shirt and tossed that as well, balling it up. He dug into bed, setting an alarm for two hours. He’d get up in time to get Marcus ready and on the bus, he’d be able to spend thirty minutes dealing with all that he had to deal with, and then...maybe another couple of hours in bed before he had to be Rio. 

Rio didn’t spread out over the bed. He had his side. This bed had never belonged to anyone else but Rio, but he liked having a bed big enough that he felt obligated to choose where to sleep. He didn’t let himself imagine another person there, hadn’t ever brought a woman here to take up the other side. Rio didn’t think about Elizabeth, pushed her away. 

She was too much. Had too much baggage, had too many kids. Elizabeth had strings attached, and Rio couldn’t afford that. He couldn’t make space for that in his life. Rio had to be the biggest person in his own life, and Elizabeth took up too much space. 

Rio woke up to his alarm, groaned. 

Fuck, he was never going to catch up on enough sleep. Just as he turned the alarm off, his door opened, and a small boy in Spiderman pajamas jumped on his bed, spreading out on the other side of it. Rio grinned, turning to watch Marcus as the boy burrowed under the covers next to him. 

“Hey, Pop, you got something to tell me?” 

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Rio said, sliding out of bed and finding clean clothes. He went into the bathroom, brushing his teeth. “Get up, mijo, I won’t tell you twice.” 

Rio heard his groan coming out of his son and the soft shuffle of feet. He finished up in the bathroom, pulled on another black shirt, walking through the apartment to the kitchen. 

“I got your backpack down here, Marcito!”

“Coming!”

Rio smiled, turning behind the counter. He looked around, pulled out cereal and milk, set up a bowl for Marcus to inhale before the bus rolled up. He found an apple and cut it up, looking down the hall. Just as he was about to yell again, Marcus, no longer in superhero pajamas, came out of his room. 

“Hey, big man.” Rio smiled as Marcus sat at the counter. “Ready for school?”

Marcus nodded, and Rio placed the food in front of him, busying himself with the coffeemaker. Marcus was a quiet kid (like his papi, his ma said, he’ll talk when he wants to), and Rio didn’t mind. The boy was well-behaved, wasn’t he? Happy? Had everything he needed and most of whatever he wanted. 

Rio got his coffee and turned, watching Marcus finish the apple slices. 

Marcus looked up. “Can I get lunch money today?”

“Not a chance, Pop,” Rio said, reaching into the fridge and pulling out an Avengers tin, placing it on the counter. Marcus made a face and Rio tapped the lunchbox. “Hey. You got food, young man.”

“Thanks, Dad.” 

Rio ruffled Marcus’ hair, leaned down to kiss his temple. “Yeah, yeah, eat your breakfast.” 

A few minutes later saw Marcus packed up and ready to go. Rio walked him to the corner, put him on the bus, sent him to school. 

Rio didn’t want to think about what Elizabeth would say if she saw him waving to Marcus as his bus pulled away. Something about him being soft, or good with kids, or surprising. He didn’t want to think about it. 

He had more to do in his day than think about Elizabeth. 

Four hours later, Rio was slightly more rested, clean, and was texting three different pickups, had a new place in Canada producing, and was testing a new line from the South. It was a bit of a stretch, the trick was to stay as local as possible, but this was an exception, and now that he had some ladies in his corner, it was easier to see what he might be able to do pushing designer drugs. 

There were only a few breaks in his day, and he drove over to the suburbs just after two. She only had a few breaks herself, and he was confident he would catch her at home. 

He parked in front of her home looked around for feds, assumed that the Range Rover was a little obvious for Turner, and stepped out. Rio kind of hated this place. It was perfect and neat and he didn’t fit in. He was a shark in the water. 

Why not. Rio rang the doorbell. 

He stepped back, pasting a smirk on his face as the door opened. 

“You don’t look happy to see me.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “My children are going to be home soon.”

Rio shrugged as he walked past her, smirking. “I love kids.”

“Not the point.” 

Rio chuckled, going into the kitchen. “Don’t worry,” he said, turning back to Elizabeth, pulling a package out of his jacket, placing it on the counter. “I ain’t staying.” 

He was pleased to see something - regret, disappointment, confusion - cross her face. He wondered if she wanted an afternoon fuck or something Rio gestured to the thick manilla envelope, labeled with just an E in his distinctive scrawl. Elizabeth’s eyes flicked from the envelope to his eyes. 

Rio smirked, turning away, opening the fridge. 

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Elizabeth?” Rio teased, pulling out a flavored seltzer and turning back to her. 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and snatched the package. Rio’s eyebrows went up as she opened it, opening the seltzer. He was going to enjoy this. 

She looked in and her eyes widened, her mouth falling open into an o-shape that would have been comical if Rio wasn’t feeling himself in the moment. Elizabeth looked up at Rio, who shrugged. 

“What is this?”

“I know you ain’t stupid,” Rio murmured, sipping his drink again. He had to work hard to surpress the grin that threatened to split his face as Elizabeth set the package down, and slowly pulled out a gun and a diamond necklace. 

“The gun is for your protection,” Rio pointed out, still smirking as Elizabeth put the firearm down quickly and started looking over the necklace. It didn’t just have one emerald-cut, no, this was a piece of art, something that was Met Gala level gaudy. It was wrought. “The necklace is for you to sell. Figure something this big…could be worth an arm and a leg.” 

Elizabeth looked up at him, eyes huge. She was holding the necklace up, and it was almost at her neck, glittering against her skin, setting off her eyes. Rio chuckled, put the can down, and walked over. God, he loved this part. Stunning her. He was pleased that she was still surprised. 

“The funny money’s going to keep going. This ain’t no replacement. Y’all got a debt and a bit more puzzle pieces to put together” He walked around the counter, staring at Elizabeth, whose eyes never left his. He loved this, this part of it. When he was in control, when he had everything he wanted, when he had Elizabeth reeling. 

“This is just a test,” he murmured, taking the necklace out of her hands, sliding behind her. He pressed against her back, pushing her hips into the island. Rio kept the necklace in front of her, arms wrapping around to settle it around her neck, clasping it. He hummed, and Elizabeth’s hand fluttered on the diamonds. There was a weight to this opulence. A strange gravitas, as if this were better than money, as if it were different than pills. Just a different game. 

Rio leaned down, pushing her hair away, kissing her neck above the white gold. 

This is what got to her, huh? Rio could feel everything about her tense and rush at the same time. Her fingers were still at her neck, barely above the jewelry. 

“I have to sell this?” Elizabeth’s voice hadn’t returned to its usual steel. 

“You do,” Rio murmured, sliding his hands to her waist, pushing her against the island again. “Sorry ‘bout it, mami. Looks good on you though.”

“I don’t know-”

“You do.”

Rio turned her around, sliding his knee in between her legs. Her eyes were wide as he slid a hand up to her neck, thumb stroking the necklace gently. She swallowed and Rio smiled, leaning in to kiss her gently. 

“You got a mind for it,” he said, voice low. He leaned in again to kiss her jaw, turning her head up. Something about diamonds had stunned her for a few minutes. Rio knew that it wouldn’t last. “And I’m going to walk you through it. A little.” 

“A little?” Elizabeth’s hands were against his chest, and Rio was almost disappointed that she had turned into something of a sheep at the sight of shiny rocks. He kept one hand at her neck, sliding the other down her breasts, past her stomach, the tips of his fingers sliding into her jeans. 

“There’s a phone in the envelope. Details are all there.” Rio smiled, watching her eyes. 

There, something changed. Her back straightened, and she dropped her hands to her jeans, unbuttoning them, pulling Rio’s hand into her panties. Rio grinned, leaning in to kiss her neck, this time sucking at her skin. She gasped, pulled down his pants, and shimmied up on the island, fighting with her jeans before Rio helped her throw them off. 

Her hands gripped him, helping him enter her. He kept a hand by her neck, the other arm around her waist. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, balancing off the edge of the island, holding tight onto Rio as they fucked. 

Rio laughed at the end, kissing her deeply, pulling away from her. She was smiling, flushed, and she shook her head. 

“I have to take a shower-”

“Before the bus comes, yeah, yeah.” Rio put himself back together, walking over to snag her jeans, walking them back to her. “You got what you need.”

Elizabeth, mood almost pleased, smacked his arm as he stepped away from her. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting the gun again, and her face dropped. Rio straightened his shirt, buttoned the last button, and walked to the door. 

“Rio!”

He turned, glancing over his shoulder. Elizabeth was standing in her main foyer, signs of her family all around her, hair still a mess, six-figure diamonds around her neck. She was holding the gun up, pointing it in the air (bad gun control, he’d sign her up for a shooting class). 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” She asked, gesturing at the weapon. 

Rio’s eyes went from the gun to Elizabeth. He shrugged, opening the door. 

“Shoot the bad guys.” 

He didn’t wait to see her reaction to that, slipping out of her perfect home and shutting the door. He still felt her hands on his shoulders as he slipped into his car and drove away, still saw the look in her eyes as he turned her around the counter. 

The woman wanted everything and had no idea. There wasn’t much room for discussion anymore. Rio knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth wanted to call the shots again. And if Rio were being honest with himself...He didn’t much mind that idea.


End file.
